


Run

by janescott



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-24
Updated: 2010-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:16:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/pseuds/janescott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the teamlambliff kink meme: Prompt: Biastophilia: In this paraphilia the person is sexually aroused by the idea of being raped. This is scripted and planned out ahead of time with a partner. The person does not actually want to be raped by a stranger. I want Tommy to reveal to Adam his deepest darkest fantasy. Adam is shocked and somewhat disturbed but loves Tommy and wants to fulfill his fantasy for him. Tommy loves horror movies so is turned on by the idea of being lost in the woods, running from a masked maniac who catches up with him. Points for restraints of any kind (handcuffs/ropes), blindfolded and gagged, knifeplay (cutting off his clothes) v. mild torture i.e. nipple clamps and very rough sex with asphyxiation. Would like Adam to pull out and come on Tommy's face and then wash it off with a golden shower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I've included the non-con warning, because although this is consensual from start to finish, it does deal with triggering subject matter.

Tommy's running as fast as he can and oh, God, he already knows it's not going to be fast enough. The woods around the cabin are thick and treacherous; shadowy at dusk.

He runs, his breath frantic and harsh as he stumbles over an exposed root.

And that's all that his pursuer needs. As Tommy falls, he feels a weight landing on top of him, pinning him to the ground, which is covered in late-autumn leaves. He breathes through his mouth as he's trapped, strong thighs grinding ruthlessly into his hips.

"Gotcha," he hears, the breath nearly choked out of his lungs, the scent of the heavy white makeup his assailant is wearing clogging his nostrils.

"Please ... n-no ..." Tommy chokes out, managing to turn his head to the side just enough to see his attacker's grotesque visage: he's made up like some --- Japanese horror film character - his face is a blank white canvas and his eyes are heavily made up with black liner and dark blue and purple powder. His mouth is a dark red slash, like a bloody scar.

He rears back long enough to flip Tommy on to his back, grinning down at him in the fading light.

"Please ..." Tommy begs again, his eyes going wide when he sees the glint of a sharp butcher's knife in the man's hand.

"Shut up," is all Tommy's attacker says, pushing his hand hard against his throat for a minute as he expertly slashes Tommy's t-shirt, cutting it right up the middle in one swift stroke. He makes short work of stripping the rags of the shirt from Tommy's torso, smirking as he shoves some into Tommy's mouth.

Tommy sucks in a shocked breath, and tries to exhale around the cotton, which is dry, but tastes sour and salty, like sweat, his eyes wide. He's got nowhere to go, and can only watch, helpless, as the man - wearing a fucking _suit_ puts the knife on the ground and yanks off his tie, leaning over and grinning as he binds it around Tommy's eyes, tying a rough knot at the back.

Tommy flails up with his hands, scrabbling at the man's shirt, his cry of pain muffled by the material in his mouth when the man merely yanks his hands above his head, pinning him to the ground with one hand, while working Tommy's belt off with the other.

He ties Tommy's wrists with the belt, cinching it tight.

"There," he whispers in Tommy's ear, his weight pressing down. "Try and run _now_."

Tommy goes still, as the man goes to work on his jeans, unzipping them and pulling them roughly off his legs, taking to his briefs with the knife, nicking Tommy's hip. Tommy lets out a muffled hiss of pain, the only sensations he can process are _dark_, and the press of leaves on his cold, bare back. He shivers and tries to shift his hands, his arms feeling the stretch of being above his head for too long, but that earns him a sharp slap on the face.

"Don't. Fucking. Move."

Tommy stills on the ground, his face stinging. He pushes at the cotton in his mouth with his tongue, finding a small gap of air that he sucks into his burning lungs. He whips his head from side to side when he feels a spit-slick finger press into him ruthless and hard, his cries muffled by the fabric.

A large hand presses down on his chest, scratching. "I said. Don't _move_," as he twists another finger in, and Tommy flushes with shame when the man taps his prostate and his cock starts to get hard.

A dark laugh fills the forest. "Little slut. _Look_ at you. Spread your legs for me, slut. _Do it_."

Tommy shifts on the hard ground, dirt and leaves moving under his heels as he opens his legs. He whines a little when he hears his assailant unzip his pants, and has to clench his teeth over the fabric in his mouth when the guy starts pushing into him – he's fucking _huge_ and Tommy just knows it's going to hurt.

He tips his head back and takes deep breaths through his nose as the man pushes his legs wider, spreading Tommy's hole with his thumbs, grunting in satisfaction when he slips past the tight ring of muscle.

"Gotcha," he whispers again, leaning right over to breathe it against Tommy's ear, as he starts a punishing, fast rhythm, fucking Tommy hard. Tommy pulls at the belt around his wrists and turns his head to the side, but everything is black, and his world is reduced to harsh breathing, and the too-much too-big feel of his attacker.

The man grunts, and pulls out, suddenly. "Sit up. Come on. Sit up," the man says, pulling at Tommy's arms until he's leaning against a tree, the bark rough and painful against his bare back.

The man strips the tie from Tommy's eyes, tossing it aside and Tommy blinks, his eyes watering. He starts a little when he realises the man is standing right in front of him, his hard cock in his hand. He's stroking it with rough, sharp jerks, and Tommy just has time to close his eyes before come spurts all over his face and neck.

He pulls at the belt binding his wrists again, but there's no give. Another tiny whine escapes him as cold drops of come start sliding down his face. He looks up, and the man's makeup has started to run and streak. Apart from his tie, he's still dressed, with just his cock – still in his hand – sticking out from his fly. His shirt is rumpled and streaked with dirt and there are damp patches on the knees of his pants.

He looks ... like he just fucked someone, Tommy thinks vaguely.

Tommy blinks slowly and pushes against the fabric in his mouth with his tongue again, almost absently reaching up with his hands to pull it out, which earns him another hard slap across the face that brings tears to his eyes.

"I'm not done with you yet," the man says, almost conversationally, and Tommy can only stare, his eyes wide as a hot, yellow stream of piss hits his face, washing away the come, and he can't – he can't - he clenches his teeth and desperately – clumsily – takes his still-hard cock in his bound hands, jerking himself sloppily as the man empties his bladder over Tommy's face and neck.

Tommy comes on a muffled groan; a name caught in his throat.

His assailant drops his persona at the same time he drops to his knees beside Tommy, gently taking the cotton out of his mouth.

"Adam," Tommy rasps, his voice rough.

"Are you – okay? Was it -" Adam stares at Tommy, concerned, the streaks of makeup fading and blurring in the rapidly darkening night. Wordlessly Tommy holds up his hands, and Adam gently and quickly undoes the belt, wincing a little at the red marks.

"I'm – it looks like I hurt you," he says, touching the marks gently.

Tommy flexes his fingers a few times to get the feeling back before reaching up to touch Adam's face.

"It's – it's okay. I'm fine. That was .... _perfect_. Exactly how I pictured it. And if I wasn't covered in your mess, I'd kiss you right now."

That startles a laugh out of Adam, and he quickly takes his jacket off when he sees Tommy shivering. "Here. Put this on. It's not far back to the cabin."

Tommy lets Adam guide him to his feet; help him put his jeans back on. Tommy leans heavily on Adam as they make their way back to the isolated lakeside cabin they had rented for the weekend; just so Tommy could live out his darkest fantasy:

_"But ... I don't understand. You want me to ... to _rape_ you? Your fantasy is being raped?"_

Tommy bit his bottom lip and stared out Adam's bedroom window. It was late at night; past the witching hour, and the perfect time for dark confessions.

"Not – exactly. I mean ... I don't want to go out and get raped by a stranger, you know? I want ... you know how I love horror movies? When I watch people being chased, in ... the movies. I – I used to wonder ..."

Tommy trailed off and ducked his head down on Adam's chest. He'd never told anyone_ this. Ever. He'd never trusted anyone enough with this. Adam rubbed soothing circles on Tommy's back. "Wonder what, Tommy? You can tell me. If – if I can do it for you, I will."_

"I used to wonder," Tommy said, his voice barely above a whisper; nearly lost in the night, "What it would feel like to be ... caught. To be ..." his voice failed him then.

"Oh," Adam said, his voice dry, and expressionless. "Well. This is what you want? Like ... really want?"

All Tommy could do was nod, feeling to Adam's heartbeat under his fingertips.

"We ... we'd – script something. A – scenario. It'd be ... specific. I know what – I want. And – I know I'd be safe with you."

Adam ran his hand down Tommy's arm, looking at his horror sleeve that seemed to move on its own in the low lamplight.

"Let me think about it, okay? It's not – your average fantasy."

They get back to the cabin and Tommy's nearly asleep on his feet. He feels as though all of his dark corners – all of the things that he thought he was never supposed to want, and certainly couldn't have – have been smoothed into round curves. He leans against Adam's back, careless of the fact he's still a mess and – let's be honest – kind of smelly, and hums a little in contentment, before a shiver wracks his slight frame.  
"Come on, horror show," Adam says affectionately as he pushes the door open. "Let's get you in the shower before we both freeze."   
Tommy grumbles a little at that – he's a grown man after all, but lets Adam take care of him: lets him run a hot shower, then a steaming fragrant bath that they share.

The tub is wide and deep, and Tommy turns in the water, moving until his legs are wrapped around Adam's waist. He kisses him then; long and deep, tangling his hands in Adam's thick black hair.

"Thank you," he says when they break the kiss. "That was ... _thank you_."

Adam smiles and runs his hands over the darkening bruises on Tommy's hips.

"You and your horror shows," Adam says, smiling, before sliding his hands down Tommy's wet back, and kissing him again. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Adam. Are _you_ okay? I mean ..." Tommy watches as Adam bites his bottom lip.

"Well ... I don't know if I'd be in a hurry to repeat the experience. It was ... intense. But looking at your face now? Yeah. I'm okay. It was totally worth it. And this means I get to dress you up and take you out. A deal's a deal."

Tommy laughs, then grumbles a little bit, because it means going out in a _dress_ and he'd only do that for Adam.

His breath hitches a little while later, when Adam presses his mouth to a particularly tender spot behind Tommy's ear, and they scramble to get out of the bath and into bed.

It's slow and sweet this time; their eyes locked on each other. Tommy lets his eyes slip shut for a moment as he comes; a very different experience now from the woods earlier, but in its way – as he opens his eyes to find bright-blue looking at him with nothing but love – no less intense.

He pulls Adam down for a kiss – long and filthy and slow – and arches his back when he feels Adam's breath hitching faster and faster against his neck before spilling hot and hard into Tommy on a low groan that rumbles through Tommy's body like a harmonic vibration.

Tommy looks out the window, having rolled lazily on to his side, staring at the stars peeking through the tops of the trees. Adam's heavy and warm behind him, his hand roaming restlessly over Tommy's body.

Tommy catches it, and kisses the palm. "Okay?" he asks, winding their fingers together.

"Yeah. Good," Adam mumbles, pulling Tommy a little closer to him.

"I'm good. We're good," he says softly before falling asleep.

_Good_ Tommy thinks, wriggling a little against Adam's warm frame, letting his steady breathing send Tommy over the edge into sleep.

_Oh shit,_ he thinks before being pulled completely under. _I have to buy a dress!_


End file.
